


Reset

by retrogve



Category: TFTBL - Fandom, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom, tftb - Fandom
Genre: Blood, General Creepyness, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, Nightmares, Retrograde Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:23:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8885503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrogve/pseuds/retrogve
Summary: Jack finds Rhys stripped of his Hyperion cybernetics and most of his memories.





	1. Defragment

_♪ I don't mind the sun sometimes, the images it shows ♪  
_

Rhys idly wiped the white granite counter-top  with an old rag whilst gazing out into the empty, dimly lit parking lot that belonged to the diner. He was able to make out the steep slant of the rain that was persistently splattering onto the slick asphalt. A pair of headlights turned into the lot, hauling him back to reality. Excitement rose in his chest. It had been a quiet night, a customer or two trickled in every hour or so- grumbling about the inclement weather. It was five minutes to closing. He picked up the empty coffee carafe and went back into the kitchen to refill it. He watched it fill slowly, humming along with the slightly distorted song that played from the radio perched on the end of the bar. 

_♪ I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes ♪  
_

Bells tinkled up front followed by a gust of cold, moist air. Rhys clutched the steaming coffee pot with his hand, rounding the corner back behind the dining bar. His eyes flickered to the profile of the man seated casually at the bar. The man's dark hair was slicked perfectly to the side, somehow undisturbed by the torrential rain and gusts that raged outside. His profile was chiseled, visage exuding confidence infused with a hint of something rather _unsettling_. 

_♪ Cinnamon and sugary and softly spoken lies ♪_

"Coffee?" Rhys asked, eyes locking with a pair that were unnervingly lupine. The customer, who had introduced himself simply as Jack two nights before, smiled slightly, mouth pulling up on one side. His wolfish gaze shifted from Rhys's face, to his name badge, to the shoulder where his right arm _used_ to be. 

_♪ You never know just how you look through other people's eyes ♪_

The song ended, leaving them in static filled silence for a moment. Jack blinked as if he was finally registering the question.

"Sure." The man's voice was low, sounding slightly amused. 

Rhys put the coffee pot down on the counter, turning around and picking up a cup. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He glanced at the shiny chrome back-splash for a second. Rhys felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment as his furtive glance was met by the man's piercing gaze in the reflection. He turned around, avoiding any and all eye contact as he poured the coffee with his only hand. The customer lifted the cup to his lips, took a sip, and winced at the acrid taste. Rhys suppressed a smirk, unable to help but watch from the corner of his eye. It was evident that Jack hadn't come back to the diner for the third night in a row just for the shitty coffee.

"Hm, must be pretty tough-" He eyed Rhys's shoulder, eyes glittering with interest.

"I manage." he retorted, eyeing the visitor warily as he felt an inkling of panic start to bloom alongside the excitement in his chest. It made for a very odd feeling. He clutched the coffee pot tighter.

"I bet you do." Jack muttered under his breath, grimacing again as he tried to ingest the coffee. He furrowed his brows. It really was terrible. Rhys sighed, set the carafe down, and reached for his coat underneath the bar. He swung it over his shoulders gracefully and dug his hand into the pocket. His fingers closed around the spare key to the diner that his boss had given him.

"Where are you going, _Rhys_?" Jack eyed him curiously, in no rush to finish or abandon his cup of coffee. A hint of impatience crossed Rhys's face knowing full well that he couldn't lock up until Jack was _'done'._ That's right- he'd have to wait. And Jack knew that. 

"Waiting." Rhys responded, putting on his best scowl. Jack ran a hand through his hair and chuckled lightly- he knew that face all too well. He patted the stool next to him.

"Come on. Have a seat, kid. You've had a long day." 

His hesitated a second, something bothering him as he looked at the angular, handsome face inviting _him_ to sit. One could only be so lucky- and Rhys hadn't been graced with terribly much luck lately. Despite his skepticism, Rhys moved and sat down next to Jack. His upper body stiffened as the man next to him turned completely to face him. While his upper half complied, Rhys's right leg bounced nervously as Jack spoke.

"Your eye, what'd they do to it?" His voice suddenly deathly serious.

"I'm... blind in my left eye. A car accident, three months a-ago... same time I l-lost my a-arm" His voice hitched as Jack rest a firm hand on his thigh.  Rhys dared to glance up, meeting a troubled, stormy gaze.

 "I'm sorry." Jack muttered, staring intently into the pair of mismatched eyes. One eye was it's normal chocolate brown color but the other that once housed a brilliant blue cybernetic implant was now slightly milky white. Someone had-  _butchered_ him. They'd taken his cybernetics and his goddamn memory too.

It had taken him three fucking months to find him again. He'd almost given up, but by some stroke luck he stopped in this shit hole two nights ago and almost didn't recognize Rhys's incomplete frame. Jack didn't want to scare Rhys but he couldn't wait any longer. He took a deep breath, leaned in close, and spoke.

 "Do you trust me Rhys?"

Rhys kept staring at the troubled face and something inside of him told him that saying yes was dangerous. But he didn't have too much to loose. A couple hundred bucks and three months worth of memories were all he had.

"Yes."

Jack managed a sad smile, pulling Rhys with him out the door and into the raging storm outside.


	2. Recall

The unrelenting rain pelted down on them as they ran toward Jack's shiny, black 1970 Ford Mustang. Jack could feel Rhys start to slow and come to a complete stop about a foot from the car. He turned around and met a pale, reluctant face. Jack squeezed Rhys's hand gently. 

"What's wrong?" He asked, tense voice laced with concern. Rhys wasn't moving,  gaze fixed on the car.

"I- um..."  Rhys bit his lip as the rain poured down his face. 

"We're not going far, it'll be okay." Jack reassured, opening the passenger door and held it open. Rhys eyed the perforated dark leather seat, took a deep shaky breath, and sat down. The door slammed closed and for a moment Rhys was alone in the unlit interior accompanied only by the sound of raindrops hitting the windshield. What the _hell_ was he thinking- running off like this with someone he'd just met? Jack rounded the hood, coming around to the driver's side. Rhys took a good look at Jack's face, there was still something about him he couldn't quite place.

Now all Rhys wanted to do was run from this. But it was _far_ to late for that. Jack got into the car and turned the ignition before giving Rhys a concerned glance. His passenger was tense, hand balled tightly into a pale fist, gaze cast nervously downward. Jack put a hand under Rhys's chin, turning his head to face him.

"Hey, _hey._ Just to the motel down the road, alright? We'll rest till morning and get out of here. For good." He paused, "Sound like a plan kiddo?"

Rhys just found himself nodding despite feeling anxiety gnaw at his stomach. Jack shifted the car into gear, turned on the radio, flicked on the headlights, and merged onto the dark highway.

 _♪ I'm lying on my side and I'm wondering when will it all collapse  
I'm lying to myself if I said that I'm never coming back._   _♪_

Rhys shut his eyes and leaned his burning forehead against the cool glass window. His eyes flickered open as he felt the car slow and watched the red, glowing motel sign grow nearer until Jack pulled off the main road and into the sparsely populated parking lot. Jack killed the engine, fished around in the center console, and pulled out a set of keys marked with the number 12. He exited the car and Rhys followed in suit. 

He followed Jack to door twelve and couldn't help but glance back towards the parking lot as he walked into the room. It was a small room with a ratty couch, a desk, and a lumpy queen mattress. His wandering thoughts were dispelled as Jack removed his grey jacket, kicked off his brown boots, and collapsed onto the couch, gesturing vaguely to the bed.

"All yours Rhysie." He yawned, turning over in an attempt to get comfortable. Rhys froze for a second, somewhat relieved by Jack's mild behavior. He didn't know why he'd felt so nervous before. He sat on the edge of the bed, slid off his boots, unbuttoned the collar on his white button-up shirt, and collapsed backwards. He stared up at the textured stucco ceiling and let his exhausted eyes close one last time before slipping into troubled unconsciousness.

 ---

He blinked, vision blurred, just barely able to make out the reflection of himself in the metal ceiling above. He was lying in an operating room by the looks of it, surrounded by gleaming surgical instruments. The floor was splattered with with red. His shoulder was wrapped in blood soaked bandages that did little to contain the bleeding. He heard muffled voices arguing, growing louder and louder from all around him. The voices combined with his already horrendous headache made him wince. He needed to get out of there.

Rhys sat up slowly, head pounding as he lost his sight for a few seconds. Blinking hard, he swung his legs off the side of the table and shakily stood, gripping the edge for support. He felt completely off balance, reeling slightly as he tried to maintain consciousness. Rhys made it to the door and staggered into a deserted, dimly lit hall which he limped down. As he went he leaned against the cold walls for support, leaving a crimson streak behind. He made it to the end of the hall and barely pushed open a heavy steel door. He groaned as he tried to shield his eyes from the unbearably bright light that the afternoon sun cast onto him. Rhys collapsed in the doorway, blood dripping steadily from his shoulder.

His vision grew darker and darker, finding himself unable to move anymore. Suddenly he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him and start pull him back inside. Rhys tried to struggle, but all he manged was to murmur in protest as he faded into inky darkness.

_No- no-_

 ---

"Rhys?" A voice whispered near his ear.

The darkness dissipated revealing the dim motel room but he still felt a firm grip around his torso. Rhys panicked, trying to pull away before quickly realizing that those were _Jack's_ arms.

"It's okay-" He gave another reassuring whisper as he felt Rhys tense up before promptly relaxing. Jack looked down, watching Rhys sink his head completely against his chest, muttering incoherently. 

Rhys was too exhausted to care, taking in the calming, warm peppery vanilla scent that emanated from Jack's sweater. Every night he'd wake up alone in a cold sweat from some nightmare his stupid brain would formulate. Getting back to sleep afterwards was nearly impossible. It made for an unhealthy pattern of sleep deprivation and anxiety that plagued him every night for the past three months.

" _Shhh..._ " Jack soothed, brushing Rhys's hair back from his clammy forehead. He watched Rhys, who was leaning soundly against his chest, fall slowly back asleep.

 

Planting a kiss on Rhys's forehead, he whispered, " _That's right. Daddy's here._ " 


End file.
